


the long con.

by thackeryisatop (orphan_account)



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Awkwardness, E-mails and Texting Snippets, Friends With Benefits, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-11
Updated: 2019-09-11
Packaged: 2020-10-13 04:37:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20576591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/thackeryisatop
Summary: Y'all wanted Branjie at Drag Con content? Let's get sick'ning!CW: Explicit Sexual Content [See Notes]





	the long con.

**Author's Note:**

> Brooke's Drag Con Booth gets moved last minute beside Vanjie's. In close proximity; well, they behave like they always do- just a little too far left to be just "friends"; but they're trying really hard to make sure they won't catch feelings- just like every other time.

_Sept 2, 2019_  
**To:** Kings Queens Entertainment  
**CC:** Courtney Conquer  
**From:** RuPaul's Drag Con New York City  
**Subject:** Mislabled Booth Numbers

Hi, Team Brooke Lynn

Unfortunately, we made a mistake regarding your Drag Con booth!

Brooke won't be at 345; we had forgotten that we reserved this block primarily for vendors and truly regret any inconvenience this might have caused.

The proper booth numbers are 913; up to 915. This area is of equal size, just clear accross the convention center. We recommend using 914 as your main booth space; and have fans pick up their merch at 913 before meeting Brooke. Miss Vanjie is at 915 so we'll be providing additional support throughout the weekend given that the lines for both will likely be extremely busy. You'll also have aisle space and tickers if you need to extend your space slightly, and we have staff on hand who can help you with setting up her Meet and Greet lineup and merch tables, same as always. Please pick up your exhibitor badges on Thursday night or Friday morning, and make sure to display them throughout the weekend.

We've attached an updated emergency plan to this e-mail, please review it with the rest of Brooke's team when you have the time!

Thanks,  
the Team at RuPaul's Drag Con New York

**To: **RuPaul's Drag Con New York City

**From:** Courtney Conquers  
**CC:** Brooke Lynn, Kings Queens Entertainment  
**Subject: RE: Mislabled Booth Numbers**

Hi,

I don't understand, we paid for this booth months in advance and we're only getting news of this change less than a week before?

Is there any way for us to get a booth closer to our original space?

We're not trying to be difficult and I completely understand mistakes happen, but we have all of our merch and a booth concept prepared for 345, and this is a huge change from what we expected. Is it possible for us to recoup some of our setup costs for having to make changes to our concept? If there's anything at all you guys can do, please get in touch with us as soon as you can! We're fine with another last minute move, just let us know!

Thank you!  
Courtney

**From: **RuPaul's Drag Con New York City

**To:** Courtney Conquers  
**CC:** Brooke Lynn, Kings Queens Entertainment  
**Subject: RE : RE: Mislabled Booth Numbers**

Hi, Courtney,

Sorry, but we unfortunately cannot make any changes to booth placement so close to the event. RuPaul's Drag Con values our corporate and business partners; particularly those which support the art of drag, and we will not further inconvenience invited guests by making further changes to our exhibitor placement and schedule. As is our policy for all guests, RuPaul's Drag Con does not offer refunds.

Brooke Lynn is a valued guest and we apologize for any inconvenience you have experienced. We hope you guys still have a great time at Drag Con New York 2019!

We know Brooke has a lot of fans excited to see her!

Thanks,  
the Team at RuPaul's Drag Con New York

-

"- so, my husband goes up to this creep, and he says _"You wanted a bear? Welcome to Alaska, dickhead!"_, Steve laughs, flicking a pocket knife between his fingers as he sliced open another shipping box filled with royal blue velvet couch cushions.

"Some guys just can't take their liquor, I swear.", Brooke shakes her her head as she folds another bolt of fabric into a messy square- the curtains for his booth at Drag Con ready to be loaded into Steve's car. Brooke planned for a lush, romantic booth- her iconic moment on the couch at Untucked, but elevated. It was the perfect way to pay tribute to her time at Drag Race, but still be cheeky and a little bit aloof.

It was so perfectly Brooke Lynn, and _Brock_ loved it for her.

"Tell me about it. Oh, and your first merch order just came in, I'll pick that up tommor-"

"Hey- guys?", Courtney's head pokes in from the hallway; fluorescent beams forming a pink halo reflecting against her hair. "We might have a...uh, a problem."

"What, the bras? UPS just said that we should have the first box tomorrow."

"No- it's Brooke's booth. They moved us from the 300's, some vendor mix-up or whatever, so we're in the 900s, and no- they can't fix it because apparently these vendors are super important or something."

"900...? Which 900, 930, right?", Steve asks again, pulling his phone from his pocket to check his e-mails. "930's not that bad. Next to the fucking bathrooms, and the stripper pole- but maybe the people in line will be into that."

"Shouldn't be too bad."

Brooke shrugs his shoulders, tossing a roll of tape into one of the boxes Steve's packing up. "I guess we can spray down the merch table, like every hour."

"No, it's not that, they put us in 913, and we're gonna be sharing. So it's gonna be cramped already, but the guy running the email said we could take some aisle space too if we-"

"Wait, who are we sharing with?", Brooke pipes up. "Is it Laila? I think Kameron's in the 900s, too."

Steve puffs out a breath, pulling up the map on his phone, scrolling through the booth numbers until he found the one he was looking for, suspecting from the moment Courtney had told them what happened. Jason had handled reservations for his girls and there was a row in the 900s they would have surely booked Brooke into right after seeing that they shared management.

"915's Vanjie."

"Yeah- they said we could take some of the aisle and tickers for the line-"

"We'd be- we'd be _together_.", Brooke said, before catching himself on his words. "We_ are_ together, and we can't change that anymore."

"Yeah. I mean- it's not...ideal but- you guys are friends, right? You can work it out. The lineups are probably going to be the worst thing about it."

"I'm not worried about Jo- about Vanjie, or his team- it's these- people are going to think it's more than fucking logistics and I just don't want to have to deal with- all of that."

"Then just don't give people material. Every time you guys are on the same block doesn't mean you have to be making out. Just act normal.", Steve laughed.

"These _fuckers_ on the internet-"

"_Are you twelve?_", he teased, soaking up how splutteringly angry his favorite client was. Brooke rarely ever faltered, and to see her so flustered was a rare, delicious treat. Even if she and Steve were practically best friends, it was well within best friend territory to enjoy a bit of ribbing at her expense. "Fuckers on the internet? Court, we might have some keyboard warriors to round up."

"The fans can be a bit much.", Courtney admits, shaking her head. "And this is exactly the kind of shit that feeds the fire."

  
-

_September 5th, 2019_

_2:05am_

**Jose (Vanjie)**  
lolol looks like  
we  
booth bros  
just got a email from  
jason  
you okay with that  
?  
you know  
bitches  
are gonna be  
crazy

**Brock H**  
Yeah, we might as wel have fun with it right

**Jose (Vanjie)**  
definily  
*definitely!  
love you  
lol  
see you on sat!

**Brock H**  
Should we start selling branjie hats again? Hahahahaha

**Jose (Vanjie)**  
maybe  
not yet  
joking by the way lol

**Brock H**  
yeah i know

**Jose (Vanjie)**  
lol  
have fun tomorrow  
never  
say never  
g2g my ubers  
here

-

**Friday**

Courtney and Brooke are in lockstep, making their way up to the convention center's entrance; Brooke wrapped in an orange jacket and a tight; burnt orange dress, cinched with a yellow belt, bright and bold against they gray of the New York sidewalks. She runs fingers through her hair, separating feathered earrings from blond strands as the two of them cut past parking meters and street lamps.

"Hey, wait up!", Brooke hears someone shout; and hardly bothers to turn himself around, expecting another New York rubbernecker who wants a free picture to be running up behind them. Instead, it's Trixie, waving from across the street as she bounces over a cab stopped in the crosswalk.

"Look at you two.", Trixie chuckles, her phone in her hand as she skips above the curb. "Let me get this for Instagram."

"Do you need my name for attention now?", Brooke tries to joke, gently bumping Trixie's hip as she rounds out their little group.

"Well, my usual little blonde bitch is in Texas. And all of you are kind of the same."

"I thought Katya was special!", Courtney volleys back easily, and Brooke nods, letting himself fade from the conversation as Courtney and Trixie chatter on while they walk through the still-empty halls of the center.

"This is me. I have to do some checks on my ride.", Trixie says, stopping just before a service door. "See you in hell, I guess."

"Aye-aye, grandmaster."

Courtney is halfway up the hallway; and Brooke is still standing against the wall, locked in place as she watches Trixie key in the door code.

"How do you and Katya make it work?", she blurts out, fingers playing with the fringe of her jacket, the translucent material smooth between her fingers.

"Oh shit!" Trixie screeches with laughter, and Brooke wonders if she's overstepped a line.

"I meant, being friends, and being a product, kind of. I've just always wondered how that works, because your relationship is sort of everyone's business, and it can... get messy, you know?"

"We aren't fucking."

"I didn't mean that you were-", Brooke mutters.

"We talk a lot, try to call every week or so. And we actually- _talk._"

For the rest of the day, Brooke watches Vanjie's booth set up just to her left; huge posterboard placards scribbled over with Sharpie blocking the hot fluorescent lights above them; like clouds collecting before a storm. Boys dressed in Vanjie's jerseys roll tires between the people in Brooke's lineup; and sometime before lunch, Vanjie's mom pushes a kiddie car filled with a cooler of water and soda cans behind Brooke's ticker.

Some of the fans must notice; they have to- Brooke realizes, once she catches a couple of the girls in line pull Vanjie's mom aside for a picture while they wait. But, when the girls run up to take their photos; shoving the merch they've bought behind their bodies for the picture, they don't mention a thing.

"I love you. So fucking much! You're literally my favorite person on earth.", one of the girls says, and Brooke lets her hand settle on the girl's knee.

"I love me, too. You must have good taste.", she says, and the whole group of them erupts in laughter.

For that, Brooke is grateful.

-

**Saturday**

Vanjie brings all of herself to the floor on Saturday morning, far before the doors open to the waiting crowd outside; her presence an aura that Brooke can feel from what must be a mile away; loud and brash and blistering as a hurricane. She's dressed in her jersey and a pair of mesh shorts; thick gold chains and necklaces circling her neck, hanging over what's exposed of her tattoo, shoes laced high up her calves.

The look isn't one Brooke would have chosen, not in a million years, but on Vanjie, it looks so right- she looks like the kind of girl who would stand in line to meet her, and that's smart, _smart_ like Brock wanted Brooke Lynn's booth to be.

Cheeky, but _right_.

Vanjie spins into Brooke's side, wishing her a Happy Happy Happy New Year, laughing so hard, so loudly as he dips to kiss her gloved hand- oblivious, or perhaps performing for the small audience of convention staff gathering at the corner of their shared booth. Farrah is standing just across the aisle, and Brooke is as mortified as if it was his real mother, feeling the blush climb up her cheeks underneath her makeup. She feels overdressed in her pink gown, the yellow harness heavy and solid where Vanjie's shorts swish back and forth around her legs.

_What was this?_

Vanjie giggles as she falls away, and her glossed lips split into a massive smile as she sashays into the path of one of the boys who are working her booth for the weekend.

"Ready, baby?", she shouts, and the man nods enthusiastically, meeting Vanjie's small, closed fist in a little fist bump that makes Brooke grin despite herself.

Vanjie still smells like her sharp cologne; but she is all sweet, soft lips and her warm skin, tanned by days spent on California beaches and what must be an entire pot of body shimmer; strategically applied. Her tongue darts out for a moment, that wicked, teasing thing.

_What the hell?_

Brooke runs her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and wonders what it is, that keeps her so enthralled. She wonders if they have any more in common, as she watches Vanjie sidle up beside her mother, who glances over at Brooke and nods, knowingly.

"Someone is happy to see you. Or you're happy to see them again?", she says, flicking the hair from her son's shoulder.

"Nah, that's just Brooke Lynn, we just friends. We was kinda dating, remember? And kinda- we kinda a lot of things. It's not a big thing. He always like that.", Vanjie mutters, looking down to check on her nails to hide his eyes.

"Does he know that?", she pressed further, fussing a little bit more over Vanjie's chains.

"Yeah. He know everything." , she said a little bit too quickly. "Okay. That's enough. Time to get crack-a-lackin!"

-

They still haven't spoken, not really; as they're led towards the Pink Carpet; part of the same cadre of Season Eleven girls being led up to where RuPaul is cutting the ribbon on the first official; and busiest day of Drag Con. Brooke tries to catch up, to where Vanjie is enveloped in her team; her Mom gripping tightly to one latex-gloved hand that swings up and down as she talks to Jason, her eyes bright.

Brooke is pushed to front of the lineup, and she fits in easily between Ariel and Ru; grinning wide as photographers snap photos of the ribbon being cut before she has to walk the carpet. Girls are screaming at her and cameras are clicking, and Brooke can't help but feel like a superstar. A slightly sweaty, sort of tired superstar, but cute enough that she can just wipe the feeling of apprehension from her mind with a couple out of the red bull cooler behind her couch when they get back to the booth.

The screaming gets a little more high pitched, as Vanjie stomps up the Carpet, hips popping as she flips her hair side to side and winks at a cameraman.

Brooke's breath catches in the back of her throat, as she realizes they'll cross on the carpet before she can leave.

"Look who's here! Miss Brooke Lynn!", Vanjie whoops loudly, pumping a fist in the sky. "_Look at huuu-uhhh!_"

She's puzzled at this; puzzled at Vanjie's need to be so close to her, so obviously despite the fact that they had talked about not doing this anymore.

People are cheering and screaming for them regardless; and the camera crew edging ever closer to the barricades seem to be inviting them to do something, anything.

"Thought I got rid of this one, but she just won't quit!", Brooke cracks a joke, pressing a kiss to the top of Vanjie's head before she can think better of it. She'll pay for that later, when she's back at the booth and people just won't shut up- but it's only a game, isn't it? She can be crazy like Vanjie, too- and they're just playing with the cameras; playing for a whole hall full of people who can only dream of being their friends.

_That's okay._

Vanjie screeches with a noise somewhere between laughter and a scream; but the cameras catch it, and Brooke is grateful to see smiles behind some of the lenses; as if they're saying _That's it. Good show._

-

_September 7, 2019_

1:30 pm

**@branjie5evah [_Alex_ @ DRAGCON NYC!]**

_Brooke and Vanjie literally just kissed on the pink carpet...wtf_

**@jessyxo09**

_@branjie5evah we stan friends who kiss_

**@missxmonsterxo**

_@branjie5evah @jessyxo09 Wait Really?_

**@branjie5evah [_Alex_ @ DRAGCON NYC!]**

_@branjie5evah @jessyxo09 _ _@missxmonsterxo_ _lots of people have videos of it on IG. I can't post bc the wifi fucking sucks here :( :( But they kissed on the carpet and left together so i guess it's going to be that kind of weekend._

2:30pm

**@branjie5evah [_Alex_ @ DRAGCON NYC!]**

_We're in line to meet Vanjie and B/V's booths literally are TOGETHER you have to go through Brooke's before you can meet Vanjie #SomeoneCallJakeyonce I'm not sure what I expected but this is what we desrve_

-

Vanjie pokes her head through the blue curtains at her booth, sucking down her red bull watching as the line keeps filling, and filling, wrapping around Brooke's so that her merch table is squeezed between a crowd of people waving Vanjie fans; and a few wearing Brooke's T-shirts.

That shit was poetic, she thought to herself; even though Brooke probably hated it. Brooke was seated at her little couch; legs crossed like a little princess, one of her couch pillows hugged to her chest as she served up a giant cheesy grin for a picture with a little family who had come with their baby; oblivious to the chaos that's building around them.

"Ready for VIP's?", Jason asks, poking into her shoulder as Vanjie scrambled back behind the curtain.

"Yeah. Yeah, definitely. Send in_ my_ girls!"

"Remember, just be cool."

"What the fuck that mean?"

"You know."

Vanjie burst through the curtain, ready for the first group that her team let through the lineup; and the next few, and the next. The ring light grew hotter against her skin; and her feet had started to hurt hours ago it seemed, the lacing digging into the skin of her legs. Still, the energy of the fans kept her going; taking spare sips of her drink before putting the can back behind a tower of tires for pictures.

"They really don't let the Branjie shit die, huh?", one of the men coming up for a photo asked, while he posed his son beside Vanjie's wagon.

"Huh?"

"Putting you guys up in the same booth? That's some crazy sh- stuff.", he laughed. "Oh man. Now, this is Weston, and Weston's wanted to say hi forever, right buddy?"

Vanjie blinked, forcing herself to focus on the little boy who was holding one of her pictures, ready to have it signed.

"Hi, Weston.", she starts, gripping the boy's hand. "I love this shirt. My favorite.", she tells him, watching his eyes light up as Vanjie nods approvingly at his Miami Dolphin's jersey. "Do you want a picture?"

"Uh-huh."

Vanjie lets the little boy hug at her waist, and smiles for the photos. "Stay in school, okay?"

"Uh-huh. Is Brooke Lynn your boyfriend?"

"My wh- Oh, now that's grown people talk, baby.", she tries to joke, looking back up at the kid's dad, hoping he'll have a quick save, only to find him waiting at the side for his son to finish with the pictures, scrolling through his phone. Vanjie can see her mother smirking from behind the merch table; and feels the a cold wash of embarrassment settle over her.

"'Cause you keep looking at him like I look at boys I like too.", Weston whispers. "Is Brooke like your crush?"

"_I'm not lookin_\- you know what, I bet you wanna meet Miss Brooke Lynn too. You gotta hurry up 'cause her line is so-o-o-ooo long, you gotta get outta here."

-

Half of what was supposed to be Brooke's couch had been shoved behind the backstage area she and Vanjie's booths shared; piled high with gifts from the fans and cases of energy drinks since it hadn't fit into the slightly smaller booth space.

"Holy- _shit_.", Vanjie moans, falling into the velvet cushions, oblivious to Brooke already splayed out on her back, head resting on one of the side cushions, so her body hangs half off the couch- a full view of her untucked dick in Vanjie's face underneath the flouncy skirt of her massive gown, though it hardly catches Vanjie's attention, her fingers already pulling apart the laces of her shoes. It's just past halfway through the afternoon, and exhaustion starts to sink into them both, despite the energy of all of their fans and the constant stream of caffeine.

"Tired?", Brooke asks, letting her question hang in the air; her head still hanging close to floor.

"Bitch, I'm about to scream at some a' these hoes.", Vanjie chuckles, kicking aside her heels. "Yvie gonna be outta business 'cause I_ will_ eat a baby if it scream in my face."

"It's easier being on stage, right? I feel so bad saying sitting there and talking to people is the absolute worst, but it's the absolute worst."

"Fuckin'_ exact-o,_ Mary! Very that."

Vanjie lets her head drop, sweat soaking into the couch's velvet as her neck relaxes into the cushions, eyes slipping shut while Brooke pulls herself up, pulling her knees to her chest as she sits up to leave a little bit more room for Vanjie, a tiny smile playing across her lips as she relaxes further into the velvet. Brooke hates herself for her arm snaking up behind her, her fingers pushing stray curls back behind Vanjie's ear.

She lets out a small, contented noise, and Brooke unclenches a little more, scooting a bit closer to her friend on the couch. She misses Vanjie, she realizes, misses things being easy and thoughtless. Misses those little moments of affection, without needing to consider what everyone else would be thinking.

How easily they fell into the same old routine, every time they were around each other.

"You okay?", Vanjie murmurs, turning his head a little more, leaning into Brooke's light touch.

"Just tired."

"You get all like a sap when you tired, you ever notice that?"

Vanjie's eyes are still closed; her lashes brushing her cheekbones where Brooke can't help but brush the glitter away with the back of her hand, careful not to let the sharp corners of her ring scratch against Vanjie's skin.

"No?"

"'Cause you like this all the time. Ain't nothin' special."

Vanjie's words aren't quite so laced with venom, as her eyes snap open when her phone in her pocket starts to vibrate.

"Shit, sorry.", she mutters, pushing herself away from Brooke as the backstage space started to fill with a few more people, including Vanjie's mom and the boys from her booth.

"Breaks over, kiddo.", her mom says, tapping on Vanjie's shoulder. "The camera people are here for all your interviews."

"Yeah, 'm coming. Just a sec. Tell 'em she's baking."

Brooke pulls herself back into her professional persona as Steve and Jason round the corner, phones in hand as if they've been talking business.

_This is your job, come on!_, she reminds herself, folding her hands in her lap and smoothing down the fabric where it had puffed up.

"-Gotta get myself right for the ladies."

Vanjie is fluttering around as if nothing had been happening at all, bare feet shuffling across the cool, gray floor of the hall as she dips into a case of drinks and drains a can before her mother even notices that the shoes for the day have been discarded underneath Brooke's couch.

"-Jesus Christ, Jose. This is not your house.", she groans. Brooke grins a bit self-indulgently, the little bit of chaos breezing through a more than welcome distraction.

"S'okay, I brought extra."

"You brought fucking sneakers. That's not drag."

"Can be. What you know about drag, anyway?"

"I have _eyes._"

The two of them bicker and argue; and Brooke wipes the sweat from her hands on the sides of her gown, meeting Steve's gaze across the floor. He's making eyes, too, and Brooke doesn't even have it in her to be angry at how everyone's been treating them like some spectacle all weekend, waiting with bated breath for

_She and Vanjie to start sucking each other's dicks live for Instagram? _

The internet had been strangely calm despite it all; anyway, Brooke's fear for the absolute meltdown on her social media dissipated as soon as she saw only a few tagged photos, and a lot of emojis underneath every clip of the two of them on the carpet. Maybe Steve was right. Maybe now that they were being normal, like Steve had said, people would give them a break. Branjie had been such a long time ago, anyway, left well in the past.

"Hey, Hey, hey wait-"

Brooke's head snaps up, as Vanjie whips back into her field of vision.

"Bitch, what hotel you at? Still good old faithful on 49th?", she asks, voice uncharacteristically quiet- pulling on the tongues of her Air Jordans.

"Yeah, Why- you, wanna hang out later?"

"We gonna be catching up, boo. Better save that cash for the bottle service!"

Steve winks when Brooke catches his gaze. "_Normal. Act Normal._", he mouths, making Jason snicker beside him as they split off to join their respective clients. 

Brooke flips them both off; and at least Steve has the decency to look offended, even if Brooke can't get herself to stop smiling.

-

"Vanj- Vanjie look, I have a _surprise_-", Brooke's sing-song voice cracks; but she's far too buzzed to care; having taken two sips of the secret cocktails that had been passed around behind the booths, the heat of her lights and the day feeling more intoxicating than exhausting as she cuts through Vanjie's line, the voices and snapping cameras disappearing behind her as she held the kitten in front of her; its owner trailing behind the train of Brooke's dress. 

"_Look at this baby!_", she laughs, and Vanjie's face changes, settling somewhere between surprise and a bit of brightness, as her eyes settle on the kitten in Brooke's arms, shaking her head. 

"Look- look-", Vanjie almost screams, pulling Brooke into the frame, her fingers wrapping around Brooke's bicep, oblivious to the girl who she has just pulled Brooke in front of. "This bitch works so hard she's done given birth! This is the first drag con baby child!" 

The girls in the line all have their phones out, surely taking videos, as Vanjie takes the cat and brings it up to her lips for a quick, little kiss. 

"No, but who's left a damn baby? Are we gonna need a Amber Alert? Someone gonna have to call the cops!" 

The crowd around them is cheering regardless of what's going on, and the girl who had given Brooke the kitten to start with, cuts back in front of them to collect the little calico. 

"Oh, look, he got his mommy now! C'mon, we gotta be fast, fast, fast._ Smile, boo._" 

She points Brooke towards the camera, and winks as it snaps.

\- 

**anonymous asked:**

pls feed international fish who can't go to drag con... is branj*e not dead again

**wichitavvitch answered:**

honestly drag con is like the branjie resurrection i'm on the subway right now and i literally feel like the clown car is taking me back to our hotel 

i waited in line for like two hours even though we had VIP and b & v could NOT stay away from each other at all. They kept cutting into each other's booth just to talk to each other pretty much all afternoon and Brooke brought a cat at some point? honestly i lost track. Steve and Vanjie's mom were literally herding them back to the right booth and Courtney was trying to keep the line moving but omg it was like the branjie show all over again 

Vanessa brought Brooke water and was trying to get her to drink it because she hasn't all day and it was just...wild. I'm sure other people have more/better stories I was kinda trying to keep my head down and not clown too hard and I was there with some friends from school so we were just trying to stay alive in line and I'm really sorry if this is incoherent but it was 

a 

LOT.

_I will literally not be shutting up about Drag Con for a solid month._

-

Brooke's not quite sure if she thought _hanging out_ was supposed to mean hanging out, the way she does with Steve and Courtney, or with her sister. But she orders a bucket from the hotel bar; and preps in the bathroom just in case. He's just so tired, unbelievably so, and sends up a silent prayer to whichever deity is listening that she hasn't caught the bug that Courtney's been texting him about, what with the gig she has booked on Sunday night, and the panel, and another day of chaos before her- now isn't the time to get sick. 

She looks fine in the mirror, thankfully, if a bit flushed, although maybe that has more to do with her new brand of makeup and the eyeshadow that keeps making her eyes itch. Brooke brushes her hair, slick with sweat off her forehead, and rolls her eyes in the mirror. 

"_Flu shots are bullshit._", she reminds herself, and flicks her phone open, to check on whether or not Vanjie will make it up. Brooke won't be disappointed, if Vanjie decides tonight is when she wants to start being smart, she tells herself. They'd been texting since their booths had closed for the day, Vanjie's mom waving a hand in her face to get her eyes to leave the screen while Vanjie's nails had tapped away, the conversation coming easy as it always had. It hadn't been dirty, either, making Brooke nervous for what was to come. 

They had hooked up before, but usually- it had been more direct; more of a mutual exchange than- _what? _

_A friendship? _

_Weren't they friends, though?_

_-_

_September 7, 2019_

_6:43pm_

**Jose (Vanjie) **

Hey Buzz Me 

In? 

I'm downstairs whats

**Brock H**

214! Sure, I'll buzz you up.

**Jose (Vanjie)**

your room

sorry

hate these

nails

**Jose (Vanjie)**

ok got you

_-_

It doesn't take long, from the moment they lock eyes at Brooke's door, there's little question to be asked.

Pants are slid off and left at their respective sides of Brooke's bed; and the two of them set to work exploring one another. There's nothing new to be found, but it's a bit like changing the controls in a game. Suddenly, all of Vanjie is new to her, from the slight definition of her chest (nothing compared to the boys Brooke spends her nights with, but this is new- she wonders if Vanjie's been working out some more) to the scratch of her newly shaved jaw on her shoulder.

There's a little scar on her hip Vanjie only notices as she sucks on the sensitive skin close to it, so white it looks like a sliver of bone.

"Where's that from?"

"-fell off my bike as a kid."

"I done that."

Brooke braces herself with a hand around the back of Vanjie's neck, and steadies herself again, ready to pleasure her as she can feel herself growing harder in her briefs.

They're stripped off without much ceremony, and her lips feel slick with the oil from her Chapstick around Brooke's cock, moving in careful, teasing and tiny circles; taking in more and more of her than Brooke remembers her being capable of before hitting balls. She strokes herself to help her along, and goes hard against Vanjie's palate, where her throat makes this small clicking noise.

"Don't bite off more than you can chew.", Brooke admonishes, only halfway joking. Sensation spreads from her middle and she moves herself slightly back, knowing what's to come just moments before she sprays across her lips and chin, and Vanjie laps at the juice trailing down her jawline.

"You taste nice.", Vanjie tells her; in a breathless gasp.

Brooke laughs, reaching for the tissues on her bedside table. Her hand misses the edge of the table, falling instead to the boxes stacked beside the bed. 

_Oh, now there's a thought._

"You like ball sweat, huh?"

"_The fuck, bitch?_" 

"C'mere."

She wipes herself off with the panties in her hand, proudly bearing her name on their waist, before turning the fabric in her hand inside out and wiping at the mess around Vanjie's lips. 

"_You're mine, you know that?_", she breaths out, nipping a kiss to Vanjie's slick collarbone. "Do you like it?" 

"Why you think I'm still coming back? I like you, bitch. I fucking_ like_ you."

-

Brooke gives her some time to collect herself before she straddles her chest, kissing her lightly from her chest down to the narrow bones of her hips jutting out between the thick strap of Vanjie's jock.

She's already popping, and Brooke can see the space darken between her legs as he works his way down, lower and lower, fluid wetting the fabric still covering his cock.

They can always clean up a little bit later.

"You're such a messy slut.", Brooke chuckles softly against the skin of her thigh, kisses trailing to just above the throbbing space between her legs.

Her teeth catch on the garter, and she comes up for air, grinning up at Vanjie. She's smiling, her head cocked slightly to the side.

"_Ready?_"

"It's Drag Con Weekend, you think I ain't come ready, ho?"

Brooke shakes her head; sliding the straps of the jock down to her knees, and taps gently on the tops of her thighs.

"So then get the _fuck_ up. Face the wall. I'm not going to do the work when I'm off the clock.", he tells her, helping her to her knees, taking care to steady her with a hand on her arm as she pulls Vanjie up, still wearing that stupid jersey.

Brooke wonders briefly what level of hell you go to, for fucking each other with your merch. 

"Hey, just relax a little."

Vanjie has angled her ass high up in the air, face resting in her arms, propped up by the hotel pillows, like the little princess Brooke has always known she craves to be treated as.

She starts with her fingers, sliding smoothly inside her from her elbow propped up on the bed, which is enough of a surprise to Vanjie that she lets out a small squeak.

"Have a little bit of patience."

Brooke pumps her, letting her hips grind into her fingers and small moans escape Vanjie's lips, and her fingers slide deeper inside her.

She can tell she's almost, almost there, watching Vanjie stroke herself in unison to Brooke's rhythm, hardly noticing when she pulls out, at least not until her lips close around Vanjie's asshole, tasting her salt and wetness and sucking gently, the way she knows Vanjie likes.

Brooke's not surprised as her ass grinds up higher into his face, and his tongue finds its entrance inside her.

"_Oh, my God_.", Vanjie gasps out, and Brooke can't help but smile, his cheeks feeling a sudden strain as his lips and tongue are decidedly too busy to respond.

She explodes over his fingers, dripping to Brooke's chin as he moves from her ass to her cock, lapping her up happily as the taste of her washes into onto Brooke's tongue. 

"Oh, I was right.", she says, nudging Vanjie's knee just slightly as she swallows. "You're delicious."

"So you like me too?" Her mouth is still running, so saucy despite the blush across her body that tells Brooke she's happily fucked out. 

"Why do you think I just ate your ass?" 

"That gonna become regular?" 

"Maybe." Brooke shrugs, this time, reaching the tissues so she can properly start to clean herself up. 

"What if I'm interested in getting in on a subs'scripter rate?" 

"Are you a paying customer now?"

Brooke dips her head to kiss Vanjie; her lips salty and still tasting of lip gloss, and if their hands meet at the top of bed, just below the headboard, it's nobody's business that Brooke grips a bit harder, and Vanjie doesn't let go. 

-

"Hey, dude- we're going out for drinks, you down?", Brooke can hear someone shout from the other side of her door, and suddenly she is very aware, she is lying in the sex-stained sheets of a hotel room in New York, while life goes on around her and Vanjie, in a hotel full of queens and her entire team downstairs, with just a floor's separation between them.

"_The fuck?"_, Vanjie mouths, eyes widening with shock. The implications of being found out aren't lost on either of them, no matter how forward and thoughtless they've pretended to be. 

"It's Farrah-" 

"Your mom?"

"Not my real- you know what, just_ shut the fuck up_.", Brooke hisses, reaching around Vanjie to grab her phone from her bedside, firing off a quick message claiming she was feeling sick, and blaming Courtney for sharing her water bottle. She held her breath until Farrah texted back she hoped Brooke felt better in the morning, and tossed her phone beside them in the bed.

Her cock is still resting on Vanjie's thigh, and she is laying slightly atop her, arms wrapped around the both of them. If she's crushing her, she isn't complaining, only burrowing herself further into Brooke's side and shifting slightly, uncaring for their nakedness together.

She doesn't really seem to want to move, either- and Brooke rolls her eyes despite herself.

"C'mon.", she says, smacking her hand lightly against Vanjie's ass, eliciting a protesting groan from her as she squirmed. "_I'll give you a bath._"

-

**Sunday**

Vanjie doesn't leave. 

Brooke wonders if this is because she's scared, of running into someone in the hallway, or having to explain why she isn't working, or out at a club to her team. Vanjie's phone has been blowing up with texts from Silky from the second it buzzes back to life after being placed on Brooke's charger, but she's also so unusually quiet- helping Brooke change the sheets after the two of them share a shower; resting her head on Brooke's shoulder while they channel surf and Brooke scrolls through her phone. 

The conversation comes easily; snaking around to touch briefly on what each other has been up to, offscreen; family weaves into conversations about their leases, about how Silky's been forcing her tastes in TV on Vanjie, about how Brooke has finally synced up all of her cards into the Wallet on her phone.

Vanjie isn't wearing a shirt; the jersey thrown in the sack with everything else for the hotel's laundry service to pick up, but Brooke managed to find a pair of shorts for her at the bottom of his duffel bag, which she swears don't smell that bad, and are his best bet to get out of here in the morning without having to do the walk of shame to Brooke hardly even knows where she's staying, in the back of a cab with her clothes stained in cum. Her chest feels cool against Brooke's cheek as she feels her eyelids start to droop, even though her hair is still wet. 

"Bitch, you really in heat, huh?", Vanjie giggles, kicking the sheets off her legs. Brooke is warm enough for the both of them, sleepy where Vanjie can feel her body is tired, but her mind is still buzzing. 

"I thought you wanted the whole subscription.", she yawns her voice dull with sleep, arms wrapping around Vanjie a bit tighter; like she's Brooke's favorite pillow. 

"It's like 8pm, boo, you really an old bitch if this past your bedtime already." 

Brooke doesn't have anything to say to that, her soft lips curling into a tiny smile. "I said I was tired. S'okay."

"Okay? Sure...you do you, boo." 

Brooke falls silent, and Vanjie purses her lips, reaching across Brooke's body to find her phone, quickly swiping through all of Silky's texts and her notifications. She's surprised to see little racket online for she and Brooke, just the same old posts that tagged them together. She hit the heart on a few of them, and giggled at a tweet of her wearing a photoshopped version of one of Brooke's bras on stage. 

"_Bitch look what these hoes be doing-_ if only they knew what you could use those little panties for- ...", she waved her phone in Brooke's face, hoping that the light would get him to at least open his eyes again. 

Nothing, except for Brooke's hot breath; burning against Vanjie's bare skin. 

"Oh...you out-out. A'ight then..."

She fell silent again, throwing her around Brooke's wider shoulders, rubbing at the skin between his shoulder blades. 

"You sure you're okay? You're burning up- "

"_M'fine_.", Brooke murmurs, burrowing her face deeper into Vanjie's chest, her skin so hot Vanjie flinches. "_I love you, too._" 

Beside them, the liquor Brooke had ordered swims in a bucket of melted ice. 

-

Vanjie had drifted off, phone still in her had, somewhere around eleven; the comfortable weight of Brooke's body digging her into side; the heat growing comfortable as he got used to it; lulled to sleep by the dull voices on the television, her eyes tired from the bright light of her phone screen. 

She stretched out in her sleep, grabbing for the fabric of Brooke's shirt to pull her closer; only to feel wet skin against her hand, instantly forcing her awake. 

"_Fuck-_"

Her fingers fumbled for her phone, and switched on the flashlight, using its beam to find the light switch beside the bed. 

"_Brock?_" 

She is silent, except for ragged breaths in between a shiver that racks through her entire body, and Vanjie sighs, running her hand against his forehead, wet with a sheen of sweat. 

_Definitely not good. _

"Hey, wake up-" 

Brooke's eyes snap open, squinting as she reacts to the bright light. "Fuck- it's f-freezing."

"Wrong answer, ho. You definitely not okay." 

"-it's just cold. Why're you not wearing a shirt? It's so cold, Jesus-", she rambled on, oblivious to Vanjie's worry increasing as Brooke kept talking. "-Change my mind, actually. It's really hot. This hotel is fucked up."

Brooke groans, burying her face in the pillow. "Fuck this place." 

"Nah, dumbass. You fucked up. Gimme your room key, I'll go get you some Nyquil or some shit." 

"Bottom drawer.", Brooke supplies without any more protest, hugging her arms tighter around herself l. "Just- don't take too long. I don't wanna be alone." 

"Why, are you seeing demons in the corners or some shit? Close your eyes, then.", Vanjie laughs, digging through the open suitcase on Brooke's floor for a shirt.

"No- I don't. Want to be. Alone.", she says, her voice strangely harsh and strained. "Don't leave." 

"Then what am I supposed to do, boo?" 

"_Stay._", Brooke says again. 

"Okay, but you gotta give me your birthday. Year first. I know the damn day." 

"Eighty- umm, eighty-six. Why?" 

Vanjie tosses her phone back on bed, and switches it neatly for Brooke's, still on the charger. "'Cause you a dumb white bitch, thank you, Mary.", she mutters to herself, keying in the passcode for Brooke's phone. 

"Now gimme names. Which ho in here is gonna pick up and not be a bitch about it?" 

"Silky.", Brooke says, laughing at the mortified expression on Vanjie's face. 

"Oh, fuck you. Keep it up and I'll call Steve on yo Messy ass self." 

"_Noooo._", Brooke moans.

Eventually, they settle on Farrah, who is blessedly silent; at just past one-thirty; when she drops off a bag from CVS at Brooke's hotel door; hardly sparing Vanjie a glance as she collects it.

"At this rate, all the kids are going to be sick tomorrow. Don't stay up too late, okay?" 

"Yeah. Thanks. Thanks, by the way.", Vanjie tells her, the wave of secondhand embarrassment coming from Brooke; who has buried her face between two blankets and a sweater layered over his shirt, washing over her. 

"Don't mention it.", the older queen says as Vanjie works the door shut. "'Cause I sure won't."

-

Sunday feels like the longest day on Earth. 

Vanjie's been up since four am; enough time to force herself awake from two hours of sleep with seven alarms on her phone; make sure Brooke's at least a little bit alive, and hightail it back to her hotel; clothes starkly too large for her in the morning light; before Jason or her mother notice anything too out of the ordinary. Her mom's still asleep; probably thinking she had hit the clubs after the convention floor closed; a Spanish telenovela playing quietly on the television. 

Thank fucking God, she thinks, setting to work on her makeup and thankful for another day of an outfit that won't require a tuck or cinching, digging through her bags to find a pair of high latex boots that won't make her want to take them off halfway through the day. 

After yesterday, Vanjie doesn't need to be a rocket scientist to figure out that the fans will want more than ever today; and she intends to give it to them. 

She shovels breakfast down her throat, rushes to finish accessorizing and is speechless when she and her mother are alone in the back of their cab, and she finally has a chance to jump on Vanjie in private. 

"How is Brock?", she asks, combing a hand through her hair as if it's a natural question to ask, after Vanjie had spent all morning trying to find places in her luggage to fold Brooke's clothes into before anyone could notice the clearly foreign articles of clothing in her laundry. 

"Brooke Lynn's all good. Same as yesterday." She hopes so, anyway, refreshing her phone to look for any messages from her; or Courtney, heck even Steve would have been a welcome update. But it's just Courtney posting about how sick she is on her Twitter, and Brooke; silent except for the constant stream of posts he's hit like on, on his Instagram. 

"You saw Brock yesterday?"

Vanjie nearly spits his Red Bull out the window, before letting his brain catch up to what his mother has actually said. "Yeah, of course I did. We sharing a whole-ass hallway!" 

She just laughs, giving her child a knowing glance. "You shared anything else?" 

"_Mom!_"

”What?”, she pretended to be innocent, letting her head drop to rest against Vanjie’s shoulder. “This is his shampoo, no?”

-

Brooke is burning up, feverish and sweaty; counting what feels like seconds between knocking back Courtney's oregano shots, hoping she looks like she's smiling, and being shuttled back and forth between her fashion panel with Carson; and back to her booth. 

Sunday is far less busy; most of the fans splitting their time between last minute shopping and trying to get into Trixie and Katya’s panel, but Brooke and Vanjie’s lines are still full; their teams rushing through what seem like hundreds of people who saved them for the last day. Or maybe; everyone’s come around to see if anything will happen, though it isn’t likely, given that Brooke wants to vomit even with an adorable little puppy hugged close to her chest. 

“Thanks- thanks for coming. Keep looking gorgeous!”, she shouted after a little girl who looked like she’d had her entire life made by just having Brooke wave at her. She took a sip of her water; and nodded to Courtney to wave through the next group. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. Just a couple hours left. We got this.”, Brooke reminded herself, trying to ignore a pounding headache. Vanjie’s music, blasting from the speakers mounted above her booth, wasn’t helping at all. 

-

“- first they are telling me that I need to get out of my own son’s line not even knowing who I am, and now you are telling me to turn off his music? This day has been too -_fucking-_ much.”, Vanjie’s mother shouts over her merch table; splaying her hands over the t-shirts as Steve tries to plead his case. 

“No one’s really having a great day right now, okay? This is just part of working with each other. We’re all trying to make this go as smoothly as possible for everyone.”, Steve smooths over a stack of Vanjie’s jerseys absently, glancing back at Brooke, whose teeth are clearly gritted behind her smile. 

“They care about each other a lot, you know? V- José wouldn’t mind.”

”They’re close again, hm? Should I worry he’s going to catch the flu? He has a tour this week.”, she chuckles, nodding towards her son, sticking her tongue out for the cameras surrounded by a group of girls. 

“I’m not- going to _say_ anything.”

“Smart man.” 

“But you’ll turn the music down?” 

“Of course- It has been the same thing all weekend! And it must be really bad- if even_ I’m_ sick of Rihanna!”

\- 

“Y’all still taking offers?”, Jason asks; at the fringes of Brooke’s booth as the day begun to wind down. It was almost closing time, and it was easy to cut through the last few people still in Brooke’s lineup. Some of the cushions has been taken earlier in the day, the floral arrangement on Brooke’s end table going to a handsome young man who had pretended to propose to his boyfriend with an orange flower. 

“What, you want a whole couch? Gonna have to come up over a hundred, otherwise I’m giving it to the guy with the assless chaps.”, Steve supplies, his arms crossed over his chest, the weekend having gone much better than any of Brooke’s team had been expecting. 

“Got a guy who wants to make an offer on the doll. He wants to come over, is that okay?” 

"Hm, gonna have to ask her. Brooke, can someone come over and make an offer?" 

She turns, eyes still glassy though her fever at broken somewhere between when Vanjie's mother had turned off her playlist, and when a girl had dropped a huge, fluffy labradoodle in Brooke's lap with little introduction. 

"Yeah, we have to sell it all, right?", she tells Jason, blinking as it sinks in a little bit more. "Do you mean a special offer? I'd like that."

Brooke can't stop her own mouth from moving, and the haze of cold medicine Courtney's been forcing on her; and can't even get herself to be angry enough to tell Steve and Jason to shut their mouths, laughing as Jason scrambles away, back to Vanjie's booth. 

"I didn't mean_ that._" 

Courtney is leaning on the back of Brooke's couch, her face hovering over the shoulder of Brooke's jacket. "So what if you did mean it? _I know you didn't spend last night alone._"

-

_September 8th, 2019_

_7:30pm_

**Jose (Vanjie)**  
are you ok ?  
I wanted to say   
hi  
and check in but we  
had to go   
you ok?  
u still look good

**Brock H**  
i might die. but i'll probably be okay. did you see the dog in line today?

**Jose (Vanjie)**  
ho don't say stuff like that  
u dramatic ass whit   
boy lol 

**Jose (Vanjie)**  
i love that dog 

**Brock H**  
he was so cute!

are you free still? Come over again?

please? i'm probabl not gonna be eating your ass though Hahahahahahahaha

**Jose (Vanjie)**  
bitch u better not   
u contagious or some shit lol 

**Brock H**  
i wanted to talk 

sorry that sounds SO bad. 

Not like that! just like we used to? 

let's just watch tv and eat something. I miss you. 

Really sorry.

**Jose (Vanjie)**

why sorry

i keep coming back too 

we regular now 

**Brock H **

I like you too. 

I really like you.

**Jose (Vanjie) **

Me too. 

**Brock H **

I hope you like lemon chamomille tea too. They wont let me out of here.

**Jose (Vanjie)**

lol 

so you calling a 

friend? 

**Brock H**

no dumbfuck i'm callin g you

**Jose (Vanjie) **

lol 

you better be in that bed

chilling

cause i know your ass never just chill 

i'll get a 

cab at 9

if you drink your damn water maybe

we can netflix boo

but we not playing anymore?

**Brock H**

no

_8:40 pm _

**Brock H**

love you too.

**Author's Note:**

> None of the social media accounts should be real, if they are I'm sorry and they're not meant to be reflective of any real account at all.


End file.
